A New Power
by Tyra Kaelar
Summary: When Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 6th year, he returns as a new person, controlled and powerful. Re-sorted into Slytherin, he’ll have his work cut out for him as he faces opposition on all sides and begins his own war, firmly in the grey. *Slash*


**TITLE: **_A New Power_

**AUTHOR: **_Tyra Kaelar_

**WARNING: **_Slash (Male/Male), AU after 5__th__ year_

**DISCLAIMER: **_I don't own anything from Harry Potter… Otherwise I wouldn't be toiling through University._

**SUMMARY: **_After Harry's 5__th__ year he breaks free of Dumbledore's manipulations. Coming into his magical inheritance on his 16__th__ birthday, he trains over the summer, finding lost information and skills. When he returns to Hogwarts for his 6__th__ year, he returns as a new person, controlled and powerful. Re-sorted into Slytherin, he'll have his work cut out for him as he faces opposition on all sides and begins his own war against the Death Eaters, standing firmly in the grey._

Chapter 1

Harry laid his forehead against the cool glass of the window in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He let Hermione and Ron's argument fade to the background as he once again sunk into the nightmare his life had become. Why hadn't he taken occlumency more seriously, why hadn't Dumbledore told him why it was so important, why had he chosen Snape of all people to teach him, why hadn't he listened to Hermione when she had told him it could be a trap? Why, why, why, why, why! He bit his lip hard enough to break skin as he felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes. It didn't matter after all. The end result stayed the same – Sirius was dead due to his own foolishness, and he now had a prophecy wrapped like a noose around his neck.

_When did my life become such a soap opera? _He wondered, before snorting bitterly, _Oh yeah, when dear old Voldie decided to kill me and the lovely wizarding world decided to raise me up on this pretty golden pedestal. _All of a sudden the thick silence in the compartment penetrated, and he raised his head, turning to look at Ron and Hermione.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, concern drenching her voice.

Bitterness rose up quickly, swamping him. _Does it look like I'm doing all right? _He wanted to snap at her, but he bit back the words and tried to clear his face of expression. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice flat. He could tell that they didn't believe him by the concerned looks they kept shooting at him out of the corners of their eyes but at least they had the decency to leave him alone. He went back to staring out the window, letting the numbness overtake his thoughts as the train brought him closer and closer to his own personal hell.

*****

Harry slowly stood up as the train came to rest at Platform 9 ¾, pausing for a moment with his hand resting on his trunk.

"Harry, we're here. Are you coming?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He shook himself mentally, already settling into the persona he had learned to adopt if he wanted to survive living at the Dursleys. He almost smiled bitterly at the thought that he was much more of a Slytherin than a Gryffindor. _Wonder how everyone would react to that?_

"Yeah," he finally answered, not noticing how dead his voice sounded. "I'm coming." He shuffled off the train, blocking out the rush and noise echoing across the platform, friends calling farewells, even Ron and Hermione trailing behind him were forgotten. All of his focus was trained on one thing – every step he took brought him one step closer to hell, and now he didn't even have the saving grace of Sirius, the last of his family. His thoughts were yanked back to the present when he crossed the barrier and saw some of the Order, particularly Mad Eye, Remus and Tonks, speaking to the Dursleys. He just stopped and stared, numb, as he watched Uncle Vernon get redder and redder as the 'freaks' threatened him. All of a sudden the adrenalin broke through the numbness. _What were they doing?! Were they trying to get him killed? How could anyone with a modicum of intelligence think that threatening Uncle Vernon, when he already resented, hated even, everything to do with magic, would help?!_

Harry struggled to prop up a smile, hiding the fury that still bubbled underneath the surface, as the Order members turned away from Uncle Vernon and began walking towards him, smiling and winking at him, Tonks giving him a thumbs up.

_Yeah Tonks, thanks so much for the help, _he thought sarcastically. He pulled out his Golden boy mask as the Order members reached him, pretending to smile as they told him to write if he had any trouble.

_Empty promises and lies._

As the Order members finally left, wishing his goodbye, he slowly trudged across the station to where his _family_ was waiting for him.

*****

After what seemed like an eternity, the car pulled up to number four Privet Drive. Harry quickly got out of the car and grabbed his trunk, keeping a cautious eye on his uncle, who was still verging on purple with rage that 'freaks' had threatened him.

He quickly hurried up the stairs, dragging his trunk with him in hopes of getting to his room before his uncle realized he'd disappeared. He stopped short at his doorway when he heard his uncle bellow. _Damn, no such luck._

He quickly opened the trunk, grabbing his invisibility cloak, photo album and wand before shoving them into the hidden compartment under the bed, and thrust the trunk as deep into the closet as he could, hoping it would be overlooked. After a quick glance around his so called room, he cautiously proceeded down the stairs, dreading what was to come.

The first blow caught him completely by surprise. All of a sudden there was a sharp pain in his jaw, and blackness skulking at the edge of his vision as he stumbled down the last few steps.

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, I didn't mean…" Harry frantically tried to appease his uncle before he really got going, a true hint of fear creeping into his voice as he hunched his shoulders and brought his hands up in front of his face, automatically trying to protect himself.

As much as he despised his uncle, he despised even more the fact that, deep down, he truly feared him. _If they could see their precious saviour now, _he thought bitterly.

He flinched slightly as Vernon grabbed his wrist, grinding the bones together as he yanked him forwards.

"Sorry, boy? You're sorry? We took your worthless hide in, gave you food and clothing, and those freaks threaten me? What have you been telling them?" Vernon punctuated his questions with rough shakes, his volume increasing with each exclamation.

Harry could feel the adrenaline pounding through his system, his magic roiling beneath the surface as he desperately tried to think of a way to escape.

"Apparently I've been too soft on you, boy."

The sudden almost conversational tone of that statement scared Harry more than anything else could have. He struggled fruitlessly against his uncle's grip as he was dragged out the back door and towards the shed.

The first blow didn't surprise him this time, but that didn't stop his head from snapping to the side from the force as he was knocked to the ground. What seemed like a hail storm of kicks and punches rained down on him as he curled up to protect his organs.

What felt like hours later, Harry gratefully welcomed the darkness.

*****

The next few days were a blur as he drifted in and out of consciousness, his magic exhausting itself as it tried to deal with the injuries, lack of food and water. He could vaguely recall someone opening the shed door to check in on him a few times before he heard the familiar clicking of a padlock. Probably his aunt making sure he hadn't died. Not that she cared, but it wouldn't do to have to tell the freaks he'd keeled over.

The next time he rose from unconsciousness, he felt much more alert. He quickly took stock of his body, an automatic reaction by now. Gently flexing his joints and muscles, he was pleased to find his magic had been able to take care of the worst of the damage. There was still massive bruising along with cuts and scrapes, but he was almost positive his uncle had crushed a knee this time and, as he carefully flexed it, all he could feel was a lingering tenderness.

As soon as he'd made sure his body was in working order and there were no serious injuries, his body protested the treatment of the last few days. The clawing hunger was almost something he was used to by now, but it felt like he'd swallowed the Sahara desert. He slowly raised himself into a sitting position, and scooted back until he was resting against a wall. _Nothing for it I suppose, _he thought resignedly, _I'll just have to wait for someone to let me out._

*****

He was woken abruptly from his doze by the sound of a padlock being fumbled against the door. He straightened as much as he could, waiting tensely. As the door opened he threw up an arm against the sunlight that sliced across the darkened room, making his eyes burn and tear. Harry blinked furiously against the light, trying to readjust his eyes after having been shrouded in darkness for days.

When he blinked away the last of the tears, he saw his aunt standing in the doorway, arms crossed and her lips pursed in a permanently sour expression.

"Still alive then?" she asked dryly. "Well hurry up. You have a list of chores waiting on the kitchen table that needs to be done before tonight." She left as suddenly as she'd come, leaving the shed door open behind her.

Harry couldn't help but hate himself for the twinge of disappointment he felt when his aunt hadn't shown the slightest bit of concern. He had known for years that his last living relatives wouldn't shed a single tear at his death, and yet he persisted in hoping something would change. _Why do I bother? It's obvious that will never happen._

Harry mentally shook himself, forcing away the bitterness and grief.

He pushed himself up off the ground, pausing to rest against the wall as he waited for the light-headedness to pass. Slowly, Harry shuffled out of the shed, blinking against the sunlight as he crossed the yard. Resignation and disbelief warred when Harry read the page long list of chores lying innocently on the kitchen table. _Why am I surprised? _Harry thought disgustedly. I m_ay as well get started._

*****

Late that night, well after everyone else had gone to bed, Harry tiredly dragged himself up the stairs. Of course he hadn't managed to complete the entire list, so that meant no dinner for him, just a few slices of bread and a bruised apple.

Harry heaved a silent sigh of relief when he reached his door, but stopped, shocked, when he stepped into his room to see his trunk still peeking out from inside his closet.

_Merlin, Uncle Vernon must have been really pissed to forget about locking up my trunk._

Harry slowly sank to his knees beside the bed, lifting up the loose board. On top sat his invisibility cloak, the liquid silk wrapped around his photo album and wand. The reminder the album carried hit him like a fist in the gut. _Oh Merlin, Sirius. _His fingers dug into the cover of the album as he pulled it to his chest, hunching over it protectively. _I can't believe I, Sirius, he's…my fault. I __**forgot**__. I…_

It felt like he couldn't get enough air, like a giant was slowly crushing his ribs. His last living family was _gone_. Sirius was never coming back, and it was his fault.

"I _can't_," he whispered hoarsely, "It's not _fair._ He was supposed to _be _here." The minute he said it he had to bite his tongue harshly as the guilt clawed at his heart. "He _would_ still be here if it wasn't for me."

_Oh Merlin, it __**hurt**__. _Harry wanted to wake up and find it had all been a horrible nightmare. But it wasn't. It _wasn't. _Because of Dumbledore's sheltering, Snape's bitterness and hatred, and his own gullibility and carelessness, Sirius was dead. Dead. Forever. And now he was truly alone.

The despair and guilt seemed to yawn in a never ending pit that ate away at him. He gripped the photo album harder, his knuckles whitening in an effort to anchor himself to reality. "Sirius," Harry whispered brokenly, "Oh Merlin, Sirius." A sob tore its way past his throat as he collapsed on the floor, accepting, finally, that Sirius was never coming back and it was at least partially his fault.

*****

Harry woke the next morning stiff, his face tight with dried tears. For a moment he wondered what had happened, but in the next instant he remembered and the heavy weight of guilt and depression settled over him. He slowly clamoured to his feet, still holding the photo album in hands that had long since gone numb.

Wondering what had woken him, Harry glanced disinterestedly around the room, wanting nothing more than to curl up under the blankets and never wake up again.

*tap, tap, tap*

He glanced over at the window and was surprised to see an owl he didn't recognize waiting impatiently on the window sill. The bird eyed him in annoyance as he slowly shuffled towards the window, moving as though he'd already aged a century. When he reached the window, he opened it before taking the envelope from the bird, absentmindedly murmuring a thank you. He slowly turned the envelope over in his hands, the Gringotts crest on the back sparking his curiosity through the depression. Harry slid a thumb underneath the flap, tearing the top of the envelope open, and pulled out the heavy parchment within. Slowly, he rested his weight against the window sill behind him and let himself slip towards the floor as the words on the page echoed harshly within his mind.

Mr. Harry James Potter,

Firstly, we at Gringotts would like to offer our sincere condolences at the death of your Godfather, Sirius Black. However, we are writing to inform you that you are a principle beneficiary in the last will and testament. A public reading is scheduled to take place at Gringott's on July 2, at 10am.

Your magical guardian, Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, has informed us that he will stand in your place, but certain aspects of the inheritance will not allow for that and so your presence is required. If this is unacceptable, we are able to schedule a private reading at a more convenient date. However, any contestations of the will must take place at the public reading with valid proof that the contestation is legitimate.

May your gold always grow,

Sharptooth, Black Vault Manager

Gringotts Bank

_Sirius…_

As Harry glanced over the letter again, trying to hold back the burn of tears, one line in particular jumped out at him that he had all but overlooked the first time. 'Your magical guardian.'

_Magical guardian? But, the Dursleys are my guardians, right? How can Dumbledore be my guardian as well and what does that mean for me?_ Harry could feel the rage growing as he realized what the next line implied. If Dumbledore was able to stand in his place in a will reading without his written or verbal consent, chances were he had control over Harry's finances as well. _Well, _he thought, forcing the rage to a simmer, _we'll just have to find out how many strings he's been pulling on the 2__nd__._

*****

The last few days flew by and before Harry knew it, it was the 2nd. He slowly crept out of bed at dawn, carefully placing the soles of his feet to avoid the creaking floorboards as he packed the last of his things, setting them in his trunk, which still sat in his closet. Now came the difficult part – he was being watched by the Order. He'd already seen one of them carelessly hiding in the bushes. Really, it made him wonder just how much Dumbledore and his precious Order cared for him as he'd been all but 'missing' when he was locked in the shed, and even after, a person would have to be blind to miss the cuts and bruises that had covered his body when he had been released. _Guess that shows me just how high on his priorities I rank, _Harry thought cynically. However, whether the Order cared about his health or not, they did care if he left the property and his invisibility cloak couldn't both him and his trunk, and without magic there wasn't much else he could do.

Harry sighed resignedly as he gave into the only option he'd ever really had – locking the trunk in the cupboard under the stairs and coming back for it. He carefully lifted the trunk, his arms already shaking lightly from the strain as he slowly carried it down the stairs.

Harry could feel the adrenaline pounding through his veins as he locked the cupboard, freezing at the slightest sound and knowing that being caught would cost him his only chance at freedom. Quietly exiting the house, he crept down the street, making sure his invisibility cloak shielded him from view. Once he'd reached the next street over he let loose a sigh of relief, tucking the invisibility cloak away in his pack, before raising his wand to call the Knight Bus.

*****

Harry stepped off the Knight bus in front of the Leaky Cauldron, waiting until it had roared away before once again covering himself with the invisibility cloak. He'd made it this far – the last thing he needed was to be discovered by his own carelessness. He paused outside the Leaky Cauldron, checking his watch – only 8:15, he still had plenty of time. He settled himself as comfortably as he could against the wall as he waited for someone to enter or exit the pub so he would be able to slip in unnoticed. The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness but he refused to take the risk of entering while invisible. _He'd learned his lesson about rash actions_, he thought with a wince.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he saw an older woman with a young child making their way towards him. He wasn't sure, but he couldn't help tensing. Something seemed off about the pair, an air of awkwardness about them as if they didn't feel comfortable walking down a crowded muggle street. He smirked triumphantly as they headed straight towards the pub when all the muggles around them couldn't help but ignore its existence. He quickly slipped in behind the young child, making sure to silence his movements as Tom nodded his head in greeting from behind the bar.

_Almost home free,_ he thought gleefully as he waited invisibly behind the boy while the older woman tapped the correct sequence of bricks with her wand. As the bricks rearranged themselves into the archway, Harry finally let go of the last of his tension, stepping out of the muggle world and into the magical. _Now I'm home free_, he thought smugly as he focused a glamour spell on himself as well as a notice-me-not charm before shedding his invisibility cloak. He'd figured out that the Ministry didn't so much track under age wizards' wands as they did the location of the magic cast when he'd been blamed for Dobby's levitation charm the summer before his second year. Now that he was in Diagon Alley, any magic he did would be completely overlooked.

Glancing at his watch again, Harry was pleased to see that he still had over an hour to kill before he had to be at Gringotts. _Now to find out just what a magical guardian entails,_ he thought, setting off for Flourish and Blotts.

*****

If he'd had the time, most of the books he'd paged through would have been fascinating. Hermione would probably be shocked if she knew how much he enjoyed learning and reading, but he'd learned early on at the Dursleys to hide his intelligence, having to underperform Dudley, and now even at Hogwarts he made sure to be seen as average. If you were seen as average people were more likely to overlook you after all. _Not that I have much chance of that, _he thought, grimacing.

Setting down yet another book after finding nothing of use, he picked up the last book in his stack – _The Development of Wizarding Families, from the 1600's to Present._ Halfway down the index, Godparents and Magical Guardians jumped out at him, page 372.

He immediately began flipping almost frantically through the book, and began smiling when he reached the chapter introduction; just what he'd been looking for.

The practice of godparents and magical guardians came into being sometime in the late 1500's in an effort to safeguard the heirs of pureblood families. The godparents were appointed to provide council and, in the event of the blood family's death, to provide care for the child. In most cases, the child was either adopted into the godparent's family line or they were given guardianship over the child. However, in the rare cases were neither godparent was able to care for the child, a magical guardian could be appointed.

A magical guardian is given the same rights and responsibilities that a godparent would have – they are responsible for their charges physical, mental and financial well being, as well as holding power of attorney and any positions of power until their charge comes of age.

_So basically Dumbledore has the right to control any aspect of my life he sees fit, _Harry thought viciously. He started skimming through the chapter, looking for a loophole. _Ahhh…_

A magical guardian can only be removed if they are proven derelict in their duties, either by neglecting their charges physical or mental well being, or by misuse of their charges financial or political power. In such cases, the magical guardian would be released from his post and another would be appointed.

_I've got you now Dumbledore, whether you know it or not._

He glanced at his watch and his mood took an abrupt down swing as he remembered why he was here – Sirius' will reading. He slowly flipped the book closed, taking a deep breath in an effort to remain calm. _Sirius…_

Standing, he unconsciously threw back his shoulders as if facing the firing squad before heading towards Gringotts, each step a weight upon his chest.

Entering the bank, he hesitantly stepped up to the counter, clearing his throat to get the goblins attention. "Excuse me?"

"What?" the goblin snarled, obviously more than a little peeved about the interruption.

"I, I'm here for the reading of Sirius Black's will."

The goblin snarled under his breath before hopping down from his stool. "Follow me," he said curtly, leading Harry through a maze of hallways and doors. Finally they came to a stop in front of one of those doors, with a gold plaque mounted on it that read 'Sharptooth, Estate Manager.'

Harry slowly turned the handle before pushing the door open, blanking his features when he saw the people already gathered in the room. Hermione was the first to notice him.

"Harry, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Dursleys? Dumbledore said that you shouldn't leave for your own safety you know."

Harry had to bite back a scathing retort as she nagged at him, while Ron shared a commiserating look with him. He was surprised to see Narcissa and Draco Malfoy sitting off to the side before he recalled that Narcissa, along with that bitch Bellatrix, had been Sirius' cousins.

"Hermione," Harry spoke mildly in contrast, "I don't believe that it is any of your business, and I felt that it was important I attend _my _godfather's will reading." He could tell that she, along with Mrs. Weasley, still wanted to lecture him about his irresponsibility, but the sharp glance he gave both seemed to discourage them for the moment. He smiled gently at Remus as he passed him, seeing the signs of grief displayed clearly on his face. Harry sighed softly; he was the last of the Marauders now. He could see Dumbledore standing to one side as well, frowning slightly, his eyes lacking his customary twinkle. Harry didn't bother making eye contact with him. He knew why he was frowning – Dumbledore hadn't expected him to show up. Just the fact that Dumbledore wouldn't have informed him of his _godfather's _will reading was enough to send anger coursing through his veins. Taking a seat near the front, Harry gave the goblin he assumed to be Sharptooth a nod of acknowledgement.

"Now that everyone has arrived, let us begin the reading of Lord Sirius Black's will." The goblin reached out and tapped a clear crystal that was sitting in the middle of the desk.

Harry had to bite his tongue to call back the small cry of surprise and grief that caught him as he heard Sirius' voice fill the room.

'I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound body and mind, do hereby declare this as my last will and testament.

Well, hopefully I went out in a blaze of glory, or protecting my godson, but on to the fun stuff.

Firstly, to the Weasley's: You were able to be there for Harry when I wasn't and for that you have me eternal gratitude. For this, I offer you vault #1047, which has a value of 100,000 galleons.

To the Order: I offer a permanent headquarters. It was never my favourite place, may as well go to a cause that would give my dear old mother an apoplexy.

To Ron and Hermione: For your unswerving friendship, I offer each of you 5,000 galleons. May the three of you stay together through thick and thin.

To my old friend Mooney: Vault #956, which has a value of 500,000 galleons. And no protesting either Moony, go out and buy some robes, spoil yourself a bit, take our cub with you.

To Narcissa Black Malfoy and her son Draco Malfoy: Vaults #1013 and #1014 respectively, on the condition that you are able to prove yourselves free of involvement of the so called 'Dark Lord,' Voldemort.

Harry couldn't help smirking at the look of outrage crossing the Malfoy's face. _Serves the little ferret right._

To Nymphadora Tonks: Can't do anything about me saying that name now. I offer you vault #1017. And good luck bagging that old wolf, eh?

Harry smiled at the blush crossing Remus' features while Tonks smiled wobbly.

And finally, to my godson: Harry James Potter, who I looked at as my own son. I leave the rest of my possessions, as well as naming him my heir if he consents to being adopted into the Black family. I wish I could have raised you pup, but you've done an amazing job of raising yourself and I would have been so proud to have had a son like you.

And I guess that's everything. I'm off to see just how much mischief I can get up to with Prongs. Take care Prongslet, Moony. Don't grieve too long, and remember to live life to the fullest. I don't want to see you two for a long time to come.

Harry couldn't stop the tears slowly sliding down his cheeks as Sirius' words pierced his heart. Merlin, it wasn't fair. He didn't want the money, he wanted Sirius back!

As he sat there with his head bowed, he could hear the shuffling of people getting up and leaving the room. He tensed when he heard someone coming towards him, and raised his head while ignoring the tear tracks. It was Dumbledore.

"Harry, my boy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back at your Aunts?" he asked chidingly.

Just when Harry was about to launch into a scathing retort, they were interrupted by the goblin behind the desk clearing his throat.

"If you'd excuse us Headmaster Dumbledore, I have a few things to go over with young Lord Potter here." He smiled, the sharp teeth making it far from a comforting expression.

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore spoke jovially, "Harry my boy, if I could speak with you when you are finished here?" And without waiting for a response, Dumbledore swept from the room.

As soon as the door shut, Harry turned to face the goblin, the remnants of anger still visible.

"Now, Mr. Potter, Sirius Black has named you his heir if you consent to being adopted into the Black family. Do you consent?"

Harry didn't even pause to consider. "I do."

"Very well, sign here," the goblin said, shoving a paper across the desk that already contained Sirius' signature. Harry grimaced as he realized the quill was a blood quill. The paper disappeared in a flash of light the minute Harry signed. He raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring as to where the document went.

"It will be filed at the Ministry," the goblin said curtly. "Now, given that you are the last remaining Potter, you will be able to claim lordship of the House of Potter and adult status on your 16th birthday, a year earlier than normal. Because of this, you will also be able to claim lordship over the House of Black. However, your magical majority will still take place on your 17th birthday.

"Wait," Harry interrupted hurriedly, "Lordship? What does that mean for me exactly?"

"It _means,_" the goblin said sharply, "that you will be granted access to the Potter fortune and all responsibilities that the position entails."

"Fortune?" Harry questioned weakly, "I thought I just had the one vault?"

"Come now Mr. Potter, your magical guardian should have informed you of all this."

"Dumbledore?" Harry questioned incredulously, "I didn't even know he _was_ my magical guardian until the letter from Gringotts a couple of days ago!"

The goblins brow furrowed, muttering under his breath as he started digging through the papers on his desk. Leaning forward, he pressed a button and spoke into what appeared to be an intercom system. "Rookshank, bring me the will of Lily and James Potter."

Barely a minute later another goblin entered the office and handed Sharptooth a rolled up piece of parchment before leaving.

Sharptooth's expression got harsher and harsher as he read through the document. "Well it appears Dumbledore's been pulling a few strings. As both your godfather and godmother, Alice Longbottom, were unable to care for you, Dumbledore had the Ministry appoint him as your magical guardian, but he did circumvent the will as it states that you are never to reside with your mother's sister."

"How would you remove someone from the position of magical guardian?"

The goblin smirked slightly, though Harry could see that he was still disgruntled over Dumbledore's manipulations. "He has already been proven derelict in not preparing you for your responsibilities as well as circumventing your parents will, but you would be better off waiting until your 16th birthday, which emancipates you, as getting him dismissed now would only mean another magical guardian would be appointed by the Ministry."

Harry nodded slowly. That made sense, particularly as he didn't trust Fudge not to give a Death Eater guardianship over him.

"At any rate, I'll give you the statements of your vaults for the Potter and Black families as well as the positions and responsibilities you'll hold. I manage the Black Estate, so you can direct any inquiries to me. I believe Shaleclaw is the Estate Manager for the Potter family."

Harry gazed in disbelief at the huge pile of paperwork now sitting in front of him. And he had to take responsibility for all of this in less than a month?

"Umm, Sharptooth? Would I be able to see a listing of the properties that I own?" If he had to learn all of this, he needed a place to live, as well as one that would keep him out of Dumbledore's reach until his 16th birthday.

The goblin smirked, shifting through a stack of papers before he found that one that he was looking for. "This is the list of the Black properties," he said, sliding it over towards Harry as he continued looking through another stack of papers that had been brought in by a young goblin a couple minutes earlier. "Ah, and here's the list of Potter properties."

Harry started, speechless, at the list of properties. List!

Black Properties

Grimmauld Place – London, England

Padfoot's Den – London, England

Auralia Island – Cayman Islands

Noir Manor – Marseilles, France

Potter Properties

Godric's Hollow – Godric's Hollow, England

Gryffindor Manor – Scotland

Gryffin Chateau – Southern Italy

Lily Island – Caribbean

Apartment – Paris, France

Seeing that the client looked more than a little overwhelmed, Sharptooth cleared his throat. "If you state the criteria you are looking for, the list will eliminate those properties that do not match."

_Well, that will help. Alright, what do I need? Okay, wards, _he thought, tapping the parchment. Only a couple properties vanished. _Unplottable location and uninhabited, _tapping the parchment again. _Hmmm…alright, I suppose 'wards' is still a little vague…_

"Sharptooth, what kinds of wards would be able to keep out everyone? Dumbledore, Voldemort, everyone?" he asked, his voice slightly preoccupied.

Sharptooth grinned, "As you are the last Potter, a Potter property with blood wards would keep out everyone but yourself."

_Well, that could definitely help. That leaves me with Noir Manor and Gryffindor Manor, but seeing as I don't technically have Black blood that makes my choice rather simple._

Harry shuffled the papers together and set them on the staggeringly larger pile on the desk. "Sharptooth? How would I get to Gryffindor Manor?"

The goblin grabbed a small wooden chest and flipped open the lid before passing it to Harry. "The heir rings. On your 16th birthday the magic will recognize you as Lord of those three houses. The Gryffindor ring is a portkey to the manor, just tap it and say 'home.'"

Harry stared at the rings, running his fingers reverently over the surface. The Black ring, made out of obsidian and silver, with a crest containing stars and a grim with 'Toujours Pur' etched into the border. The Gryffindor ring, made of ruby and gold with a lion rampant, the quote 'audaces fortuna iuvat,' "Fortune favors the brave," Harry breathed, "how appropriate." And finally the Potter ring, made of ruby and silver with a lion and a stag on either side of a sword, the motto etched beneath. _So that's the Potter crest, 'fiat justitia,' 'Let justice be done,' I can agree with that._

"You can merge them if you choose, and the most dominant line will be the ring that shows, in your case, the Potter ring."

Harry reached out and slowly slid each ring onto his right hand, watching as they merged. This all felt so surreal still, but if he was going to have a ghost of a chance against evading Dumbledore and the Ministry, let alone defeating Voldemort, he would have to start taking control. _Live life to the fullest, hey Padfoot? I'll do my best._

He took a deep breath, facing Sharptooth with determination ringing clear in his voice. "I'd like to see all of the main vaults please."

*****


End file.
